On Sunday, I awoke with a splitting headache. Not sure what caused it, but I usually don't get headaches, and it's rare that I get one that's so bad that it keeps me in bed all morning. Eventually, the Advil and the Alavert kicked in sufficiently well for me to pursue my third medication of the morning: Cafe Americano.
With caffeine delivery vehicle in hand, I started wandering around downtown Portland in the noon-day sun. I got lost and found myself at Portland State University before I doubled back, and found Murata, the excellent Japanese restaurant Piers found last year, and the Marriott, where there was the predictable gaggle of geeks in the lobby making full use of the wireless network.
After chatting for a while, Robert and I wandered over to the Oregon Brewers Festival, where we found Ron Kimball and a couple of other conference attendees. It was a hot day, so we focused on a couple of American interpretations of Belgian Witbier, and the odd "pale ale" or two. Alaskan Amber is still as tasty as ever. There were also a surprising number of east-coast beers at this festival, including a half dozen brews from the mid-atlantic. One of the food stands was selling Halibut and Chips -- I never pass up a chance to get Halibut and chips when I'm in this part of the globe.
After we had our fill of beer, we wandered back to the hotel to find the usual suspects in the lobby. At some point, I my throat started bothering me, and I decided it was time for ice cream. So Robert, Jesse, and I took a stroll with the Fotango crew (Arthur, James and Nick) to the ice cream place on the riverfront near the hotel. Jesse and Nick wanted something dinnerish, and got a couple of sandwiches, while the rest of us got ice cream. James and Arthur were amazed at the you're-in-America-now sized portions -- $3 for a waffle cone with a very generous "scoup" of ice cream. Someone worked out that it was about £1.50 for about a pint of ice cream, with a cone underneath. In England, I think they call this "ice cream for four".
After that, it was back to the hotel, where I reminded Nick that he is in the US, so the paper is supposed to look funny -- it's 8.5x11, not A4. After some more yaking, it was time for bed, and a nice walk back to the Sheraton in the cool evening air.
